


Dear heart, why him?

by petiterose



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, Top Michael, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-23 00:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20330701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiterose/pseuds/petiterose
Summary: Y/n met Michael during the last year of high school, from there their relationship progressed and so did Michael’s sadistic nature. How long can someone’s unconditional love last when their partner is the spawn of Hell?





	Dear heart, why him?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello again cuties!!💕💕 Thank you so so much for reading my previous story, hope u enjoy this one as well💖💖💖 xoxo, Annie

Y/n just walked out of the art classroom, her best friend by her side. One second she was laughing at a joke, a moment later she saw the most gorgeous being in the entire world. She felt her blood pressure drop as the pale-eyed, supermodel-looking boy held her gaze from a few feet away. Snap. The searing pain sliced behind her eyes. A body fell to the floor, making heads turn, sending people to aid the poor girl. Michael's cold gaze followed her limp form, _ouch, that must've hurt..._

Satan sure had a dramatic way of doing things, just like now, with blood and all those theatrics. His son has been well-behaved as of lately, that earned him a treat, a small present dropped to his feet. _Literally._

He, of course, helped to carry her to the nurse, making hearts of everybody around explode with adoration. Such a Disney prince.

"The new boy is a sweetheart, and he's sooo pretty."

"I wish it was me he carried like that."

"Ugh, I think I have a crush on him..."

And the funniest part's that they don't even have a clue. But isn't it smart? To design someone to be so outwardly perfect when they are a descendant of the Devil himself? It's so fascinating how most of the time things are so different from what they are supposed to be, how white marble cathedrals are so gloomy on the inside, spiky embellishments looming over your head like bad omens, Virgin Mary is crying in the shadows...

Y/n woke up in the nurse's office sometime later to the same boy from before sitting next to her on the bed.

"You should thank Michael, dear. He was the one who helped you", chirped miss Johansson, as gleeful as ever.

"Hello", smiled the blond, the sunny boyish grin didn't reach his eyes. _Oh, you don't even guess_...

He walked her home that day and Y/n thought she never felt happier in entire her life. They clicked instantly, Michael Langdon's personality was just as appealing as his looks: beautiful, with a hint of underlying darkness. As they reached her house he whispered "be careful" right by her ear and she blushed so brightly that Mrs. Jenkins, her old grumpy neighbor, could see from across the street.

_How could you be so silly, Y/n? So careless? How could you let the Devil in?_ She asks herself this very often now. But who was ever able to resist Michael? Nobody... And still, she feels hurt and foolish, childish even. _Childish_... That's what he calls her when she cries, when she tells him that the idea of Armageddon is absurd, that people don't deserve this, that they are better than he thinks. He calls her childish when she asks if her love isn't enough for him...

She toys with her earring while thinking of the gone days, her innocent past self could never imagine this ridiculous future,_ being the lover of the Antichrist_. She fell in love with him the day they met. Never before she experienced such strong feelings, it left her in a constant state of dizziness, like floating in the clouds. _Soft, vulnerable_. And she embraced it, inhaled full lungs of this fairytale. Little did she know that poison filled the air around... Soon she started noticing new sides of Michael's character and each discovery left a faint trace of uneasiness behind.

To begin with, he never was sunshine and rainbows. Nice, but not sweet, her BFF Marla used to say. Well, there was more to it. He loved pain, inflicting it upon others, to be exact. _Mainly her,_ a cute, obedient pet. His kisses left bruises, his hands pressed hard, leaving marks all over the delicate skin and she didn't object. _She liked it_. How he always spoke so tenderly while being so rough, his fake sympathy making her ten times wetter. Other things were far more disturbing. Animals behaved differently around him and she was almost certain he knew why. He was incredibly smart and had a talent for manipulation, it took him no effort to bend people to his will. And also that his body was so hot all the time... She told herself it was nothing, that she was just overthinking.

...

"...I am sorry, but it's not like you are religious or anything."

She was a tad scared of him now. He got really annoyed when she whispered a meek "oh god" earlier during their *lovemaking"* as his hand curled so perfectly around her neck.

Michael's lips stretched in a cruel smile as he pressed harder on her throat, " Don't you get it yet? There is no God, pet..."

He brushed his nose up her cheek,

"Nobody can save you from me."

She had a moment to search his face with a glassy stare before the light bulb on the ceiling basically exploded, startling a poor thing. _Ah_. Michael smiled even wider, his eyes... Oh, his eyes turned white...

"I am the Antichrist."

"W-What?? I-I d-don't understand..."

She gripped his wrist with both her hands. _Let go, please._

" The son of the Devil, the opposite of Christ. C'mon, baby, get it together".

This mocking voice again.

"Oh, God!" she clenched around him, he tightened his grip.

"Wrong, baby girl. Only I can make you feel this good, but don't worry, you'll learn. _We have so much time._"

////

"I hope I didn't scare you too much yesterday," he said casually the next morning, trailing lazy kisses down her stomach. They had a house to themselves for the whole weekend while Meade was on some field trip kinda thing with her church. Y/n was alone with him. _With Satan's son_...

" A-Are you going to hurt me?" she asked, clutching her worn T-shirt tightly to her chest as Michael's head rose from her abdomen.

"No, of course not, pet..."

He furrowed his brows and reached to cup her cheek.

"Never. _Unless you decide to disobey me_."

////

The atmosphere has changed since his "confession". Some sort of veil fell upon her heart. He was the same as before, maybe a little smugger, their relationship had the same dynamic. The sun was still rising every morning, the world still basked in its healing light. _For now_, she thought. _The Antichrist, for God's sake... _She was going crazy. All those things were real, the Devil at least. Magic was real. She saw a spider in the bathroom and he set it on fire just by looking at it.

"What is it, princess? Cat got your tongue?"

He walked away with a cocky grin on his full lips as she gaped at the empty spot on the ceiling. _He could burn someone alive. Even her. Kill her in a blink of an eye. And she would let him. Damn it._

////

He told her he was leaving for Hawthorne the day before he actually left and she cried. And then cried again. Honestly, Michael was feeling the same way, but he had other things to think about. He traced his fingers down her spine while she wept princess-style on the bed.

"No need for tears, pet. I'll come to see you soon. I promise the wounds on your skin won't be fully healed yet."

She scooted over and pressed herself to his chest.

"Please don't go, what would I do? "

"Shh, you'll be fine. You know that I love you. It's ok."

"I love you more..." she whispered, his magic lulling her to sleep.

////

Someone could say that it requires a pure soul to love evil. But she would disagree. She didn't feel_ pure_, nothing of the sort. She was indulging in her own fantasies, she was vain. But who wouldn't, when the evil itself loves you? When something dark desires you... Anyone would be flattered. Now, when she knew about the creatures from below, she wondered if God existed. Was he judging her? Or was she good in his eyes from loving the enemy?

She had to buy a new concealer to cover the marks from their last night together and now they have vanished. But her worrying heart was uneasy. Certainly, she's just overthinking, just like she always does.

The next few weeks were spent in a constant state of anxiety. School, friends, two parties, working in her aunt's flower shop. Nothing felt right. She even tried texting Meade to ask if everything was ok, but no one ever answered... Was this the way God was punishing her? Were her sins finally noticed? She was going to drive herself insane with these thoughts, time to go to sleep...

////

Faint rustling disturbed her dream. Like some sort of heavy fabric and then something cool caressed her forehead. She opened her eyes to the dark moonlit room and a figure standing by her bed._ Michae_l...

"Are you a part of my dream? You must be..." she whispered into the night.

"And why would you think so?"

"If it wasn't, I'd be the happiest person in the world and that is impossible."

He kneeled on the floor and brushed a stray piece of hair from her cheek, his leather-clad hand felt soothing against her flushed face. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

" You look even more beautiful than I remember..."

She was so quiet, scared to shoo the vision away.

"I came to take you with me."

She nodded eagerly, a dream or not she didn't care. _So naive_...

"Good, " he said, "just relax"...

It was the last time he was this kind to her.

////

It was not an illusion, she later realized. Michael brought her to what he referred to as "their new home". A huge mansion, a mixture of Victorian architecture and modern technology kindly presented by the Cooperative to its new-found leader. The Cooperative aka the Illuminati, aka a cult dedicated to Satan and his offspring as well as destroying the world.

"So y-you really plan to cause the Apocalypse?"

"Of course I do! Think of it as a cleansing, the world barren of all the filth. The human race will be no more. And you, my angel, will be my side, watching everything unfold..."

His speech left her shocked at best. Y/n tried reasoning with him, though deep down she knew it wouldn't work. When she asked him about the people that were close to her, her friends and aunt he simply said that it wasn't difficult to make them forget.

"What do you mean "forget"?"

"Oh, please. One spell and everyone who have ever met you would never remember you again. I am doing this for you," he placed his hand over his heart. "Don't you wish for a painless end for your loved ones?"

"A painless end??? What the fuck are you talking about??"

Michael raised his brows, clearly amused. But his amusement shifted into scorn as the wine-red satin pillow flew by his head.

"You need your sleep, you are exhausted. I'll join you soon."

He gave her a chilling look and left the room.

////////

Y/n sits in the velvet armchair in their shared bedroom. Her luscious locks are perfectly done, but apart from it, she's almost naked. A pair of diamond earrings and a silk lingerie set is all she wears. It's red, Michael's favorite color. _Not hers_. He measures every breath she takes, every step she makes requires his permission. _Jesus Christ, what has she become... What happened to that cheerful, fun-loving girl? Where did she go? Is she even alive?_ A tear drops from her lashes, she lost herself... All she's left with is the empty space inside her and it became unbearable. Everything hurts now. This enormous house, her damaged skin, the miscellany of the most intricate jewelry that he gifts her. Dozens upon dozens of beautifully crafted designer dresses hurt. Her soul hurts. His love hurts. His ethereal beauty makes her heart ache and bleed. _She should be getting ready for the evening, she needs to choose an outfit and heels, and a perfect shade of lip gloss... Michael will be angry when he sees her in this state. But he will be angry anyway, right? _Now tears are streaming full force, the memory of yesterday's morning appeared again.

***

It was a brief Cooperative meeting to announce the end of all the preparations, the grand gala would be hosted the next evening. She stood beside Michael, silent as a shadow and watched how masked people clapped and cheered. _The world was about to die because of them and they laughed.._. Before she could think twice, she was running towards the door. She had to escape, she needed fresh air... But the handle didn't budge. The clapping ceased and covered faces turned her way.

"Where are you going, my love? Do you not want to share our joy?"

"_This is sick_," she seethed " I want to leave."

Michael approached her in slow, measured steps. Her breathing increased as he took off his glove and followed the line of her throat with his fingertips.

"Are you afraid?" came his whisper.

"Yes..."

"Louder."

"Yes." she squeaked, the still room swallowed it immediately.

"As you should be." he gave her a barely-there smile and stepped back. "Everyone who has the audacity to be defiant will be punished," he spoke to the hushed members, "no exceptions made." And then his hand collided with her face. A blow of such force that she fell to the floor. A small crowd gasped in unison, earning a satisfied smirk from the Dark Lord. One of his heavy rings split her lower lip so hard that blood _trickled_ down her chin.

"I hope you learned your lesson, darling. You may leave if you so desire."

***

She cries in the dark bedroom, all alone. No one will hear it, no one will listen to her. No one is there for her. _This is not worth it. It's not love when it brings more misery than happiness. The high feeling she gets from when he fucks her so hard that her nose bleeds can't cover for all the small horrors of her everyday existence. You have to leave Y/n. Time to stand up for yourself, even if there is no time left._

"Is there a reason why you are still undressed?"

She looked him up and down. Black velvet suit, his hair is almost touching his shoulders. He never looked more perfect...

" I'm leaving, Michael. I suggest you don't try to stop me or I'll just jump out of the window."

"My, since when you are this brave? I must say I am impressed, though what leaves me even more surprised is your ungratefulness. Tell me, pet, what was not enough for you?" his voice is calm, so are his eyes, but she knows better.

"Oh no, quite the opposite, actually. All of this is_ too much,_ I don't think I can handle it." she wants to give herself a pat on the back for how certain she sounds. Still, she trembles when he advances towards her. _Oh God, please, no.._.

"Michael, please not now-"

"Shh," his gentle touch is startling. He drags his fingers from her collarbone and lower, lower, sending goosebumps to spread all over the area. His gaze wanders off somewhere behind her and then back when his knuckles pass her abdomen, making muscles contract.

"_ So responsive_, even after all this time... Maybe I should let you go, hm? Purely to amuse myself. Watching you run," he smiled" and then trying to live your usual life. Like you never witnessed any of this, wouldn't it be fun?" His soft lips brushed her temple, "You may run, little rabbit. Run as far and fast as you can. Because I'll find you in the end and you know I like to play with my food."

////

6 weeks passed before the men in black came. 42 days of seemingly peaceful life ended in a blink. _Fucking hell_. She didn't curse that often, but wow, who knew this would happen so suddenly. Less than an hour later the missile hit LA and the world was no more. All Y/n remembers of the time before the outpost is complete and utter darkness. Like her consciousness was swallowed by the endless void. She doesn't recall herself crying or panicking, or even breathing..._ Did she even exist before the bomb? Or was she one of the creatures created by the blast? What should she do with herself now?_ The question was answered by miss Venable, the lady in charge of the Outpost 3 made it clear that now Y/n's life consisted of dress code and a strict schedule: ruffly purple gowns to be worn every day, no sexual intercourse is permitted, being late to gatherings will earn a punishment.

" There can be no excuse for tardiness when you have nothing else to do. I hope you enjoy your stay, if not nobody's gonna hold you hostage."

***

Y/n is walking down the dimly lit hallway, lost in her thoughts. It smells so strongly of wax in here. The stale air is thick, more so with sadness than anything else, to be honest. When she spotted the robotic Ms. Meade soon after arriving she almost lost it, the older woman was wrapped in the tightest embrace before she even noticed the sobbing girl.

"For hell's sake, get off of me. I've never met you or you sugar daddy before. I would suggest you keep your sentiments to yourself because we don't have any of those little pills that you airheaded valley girls used to pop to "calm down"." a grin appeared on her dark lips, "_And be grateful we don't whip purples for every insubordination._"

" Miss Y/l/n... The dinner is in 5 minutes, care to explain why are you still wandering the halls instead of patiently waiting for your meal to be served?" _Oh, no._

" Ms. Venable, I was just, um..."

" She mistook me for an old friend."

"An old friend, you say?" she stopped beside Meade. "In what world would someone like this," she threw Y/n a dispassionate look, "be friends with a regular person? I thought they grow you Barbies in some sort of an incubator and then rich, self-obsessed men can come and choose a doll just for themselves. _Could_, rather."

The poor girl was speechless. She tried to overlook Meade's remark, but this was _disgusting_.

" Excuse me, madam, but-"

" You are excused. Hurry up or your dinner might grow cold."

So she did. Bit her tongue and moved on. Later, while chewing on a gross gelatine cube, she decided that whatever those two are gonna throw at her she will ignore it. This pettiness is below her and if she responds it'll mean that she is no better, that she is one of those bitter, spiteful people Michael despised so much. She _is_ alive when... When the rest of the world is one huge graveyard and she must continue living, continue being as humane as possible to honor all those who were less fortunate than her. _Those who were not fucked by the Antichrist_, a tiny voice whispered in her head. _No, no more of these thoughts. Maybe, maybe if she is lucky enough she will see Him again, but if not she has the memories. Even though he was downright cruel with her sometimes, she has forgiven him. Bringing the Armageddon to life is quite a hard task after all. At least, she thinks, his Father can be proud of him._

***

Far, far away in the Sanctuary Michael Langdon rejects the company of Duncan Shepherd for hell knows what time. No matter how attractive the former republican is the only thing that Michael can think of is Y/n. The only person who he ever experienced attraction to, the only one he ever truly loved. _A human with the purest heart_. She, a frail mortal, a creature of the delicacy of a flower, has a soul kind enough to love him. _Him_. He was the embodiment of everything she was not. Is. Of everything, she was terrified of. He took everything from her. He, the Devil on Earth, the most powerful being had a true angel for a lover and he managed to scare her away. How much pain you have to bring upon someone so loving that they have no choice but to flee. _He is the most pathetic person to ever exist_. He cries. Cries, because he knows that his perfect angel is holier than the angels who tried to lure him to the other side. Who would have thought, that a trinket Satan casually threw his way would make the Little Devil soft enough think of turning everything back just to earn her forgiveness? _But Little Devil, that isn't needed, she will kiss the ground you walk anywa_y.

***

The soft candlelight in the Outpost bathroom makes Y/n look like a painting. The diet of vitamins and water made her skin smoother than ever before, her hair shines with strength and now reaches right above her waist. The cosmetics she uses are of the highest quality, smell of wildflowers and honey in every bottle. The grays use the same things, another power move of the Cooperative. To show how merciful they are, even to the help. _The help_, ugh. People are equal, no one has to clean after someone else for food. So she made friends with a couple of them. She spends time with Mallory when Coco becomes bored, but unfortunately, she is not allowed to help her friend. And also Lizzie, her personal gray. Here she can do anything she wants, well, when nobody sees. Often she gets Lizzie to sleep on her bed while doing all the chores herself. Gallant is funny and Timothy and Em are so lovely together that it's kinda gross. Other occupants are bearable, she likes to hear them talk, she laughs when they argue. Venable hates her, though she has no clue why. It's like she knows that so often when the night approaches Y/n excuses herself to bed and does things that make her blush when she thinks of them sitting on the couch in the middle of the library. Except, how can it be true when she tries to be as soundless as possible. Or perhaps someone's sensitive hearing picked up the breathy sounds she makes when her dainty fingers pass the tender bud between her legs and slip inside. Desperate pants fall from her lips when they don't reach just deep enough, and ah, her pace becomes more and more frantic. Faster and faster and faster and still it's nothing... The slickness covers her inner thighs and slides down onto the bedsheets. _What if someone's listening to her despair? Right there behind the door? What if they tell on her? Will Ms. Venable punish her? _The word "punish" makes her squeeze her legs tighter together. With Michael, it meant a lot of things. He had a cane similar to that Venable has, the swats that landed on her backside left awful bloody bruises and she couldn't sit, like literally couldn't sit, for at least 5 days. And he went light on her that time. They had a pretty vast collection of different toys, some for pleasure some for pain. And every time Michael used them on her, which in this case almost every night (and even during the day, if his Dark Majesty was in the mood) he had to make a show out of it. That one time he put a small vibrating egg inside her and made her sit the dinner with some of his most important followers without even letting her wear panties. The sporadic waves it produced got her breathing so shallow and irregular that she nearly choked on the glass of wine he offered her.

"She doesn't look very good," said Trump from the far corner of the table.

"Oh, I can assure you, _Donald_, she is better than good. Aren't you, darling?"

She could only nod, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. _She never came that night._

" What are talking about, my dear? I told you you would be able to finish if only you were quiet and_ you were anything but_."

"But I tried my best, you know I did." Y/n pouted, crossing arms over her chest.

"And that amount of effort is admirable, but it's still a no." Michael kissed her forehead and turned the lights off with a flick of his wrist."_Goodnight, pet_."

***

Sometimes she can get so horny from the absence of touch (and a little bit pissed at Michael for not connecting with her for so long) that she finds herself thinking that horrible and feared Ms. Venable isn't that awful._ Y/n likes her voice..._ If only she wasn't that stuck-up and pretentious. _Well, to be fair, Michael was even more pretentious, but that's whatever_. She tries to ride the pillow, thoughts swirling inside her head. And finally, a weak orgasm blooms and dies inside her. Oh, what a bad girl she is, doing all these naughty things. If only there was someone to teach her better. _Fear not, angel, the salvation is close..._

***

For some unknown reason, she grew extremely receptive during the last 6 days. Her body feels like a wired system. Her heart rate picks up randomly, her skin erupts with goosebumps. _What is it, what do you see?_ Every shadow, every flick of candleflame, hushed, distant noises make shivers spark at the base of her spine. Looks like something is about to happen..._ To anyone who is listening, please let the future be merciful._.. Her makeshift prayer is interrupted by the alarm going off. Oh shit...

"We have an intruder."

Her heart flutters like a hummingbird.

"Maybe it's an animal? What else can it be, right?" Y/n manages a nervous smile.

"Oh, it better be." agrees paler than snow Coco.

////

_Not an animal then_. Everyone was told to gather at the library, the purples, the grays, the security. Butterflies in her stomach were making Y/n dizzy, it can't be him, but what if? The growing, thrumming anticipation electrified the atmosphere. Precise footsteps clicked closer and closer until they finally reached the entrance. And the Earth stopped spinning the moment he walked in... His wheat-colored waves fall way past his shoulders, pastel watercolor red frames his eyes. _Don't stare_. He starts talking and she thinks how flawless he is. J_esus, how he could grow even prettier?_ His beauty is a specific type, it doesn't make you feel warm inside, it's more like electricity. Sharp and so cold, it's scalding, injected into your blood through pointy needles. No God could ever create something like this... She is so entranced that she misses how her eyes slowly fill with tears.

"I volunteer to go first!" It's Gallant. She admires his courage. No matter have brave she considers herself to be, she could never be _this _bold.

_"Of course_," drawls Michael "but I do believe someone else seems totally unable to hold in their excitement. I would enjoy seeing _you_ first." He looked down at wet-eyed Y/n.

She gawks at him as if he suddenly grew horns and nods in agreement, hands gripping the thick velvet of her skirt.

" I look forward to meeting each and every one of you". And he disappears without even looking her way. _Well, that's charming._

"Look at those crocodile tears, you think you can cry your way to the Sanctuary?" Andre squinted at her from across the coffee table and received a scold from his mother. Then Lizzie called her name.

"Y/n, Langdon would see you now..."

////

She walked to his office as fast as she could._ I need to do this. Or else my soul would die_. She brought her hand to knock on the black wooden doors and they opened with a whoosh. Michael was upon her immediately. His lips found hers and connected in a bruising kiss. Ah. Her cheeks flushed with color as his tongue and teeth were doing their sinful work. He bit her lip in the process and she gasped in pain. He bit her again, this time intentionally and proceeded to lick it all up. Her lungs burned from the lack of air as he finally pulled away after what seemed was an eternity.

"I'm sorry, my love. I am so so sorry." He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against her own. "All the things I've done to this wretched world are nothing in comparison to the suffering you had to endure." Is he... Crying?

She wiped a teardrop from his cheek. Her touch is cold in contrast to his inhuman heat. A chaste kiss landed on his bloodstained lips. "Your life has been just as much of a Hell as my own, if not worse. It's ok now, let's forget the past."

"I don't think that even memory erasure spells can help here."

"Michael, I waited almost 2 years to see you. Not to be rude, but how about you fuck me?"

A dark look took over his crystalline eyes._ Now, that's better_.

"Are you ordering me around, pet? I am apologizing for hurting your feelings and you think about fucking."

"And whatcha gonna do about that? Make me pray and ask Father for forgiveness?"

"No... Why would I do something so silly? I'll fuck you, just the way you want me to do." his mouth lined up with her ear," again and again and again. Let's find out how long you can take..."

_The restraint he has, my god._

"Promise?"

And so it begins. Michael grips her chin and draws her into another aggressive kiss. Hands tangled in hair, tugging, pulling. Y/n is reminded of his otherworldly origin when he tears her bodice like it's made of paper. Blunt nails leave angry red marks on her heaving chest, his mouth now ruining her delicate throat. Violet bleeding splotches appear one by one.

"Look at me." He commands ripping her corset and linen shift into shreds. His sharp movements make her breathless, she struggles to open her eyes. The rush of endorphins adds to the lightheadedness.

Hot moisture envelopes her nipple, soothing feeling followed by a sharp bite. His large palms found their way under her puffy (and surprisingly intact) skirt. While Michael tries to get rid of her underwear Y/n feels like flames are licking at her body. _He does this to her... And he hasn't even touched her yet._ But only one featherlight touch and she would cum. _He can use magic on those damned panties, but he must drown it out._ Shit. A stinging blow landed on her inner thigh.

"Your thoughts are too loud, pet. But if insist, your wish is my command."

He clasped his long fingers around the back of her thigh and put it around his waist and then two of those digits were inside here. She grips his shoulders for leverage.

"There... You like it this way, don't you?", he pumps roughly, gems on his rings nipping on her precious flesh. The room fills with obscene wet sounds as he repeats the motion. He reaches that spongy spot deep within her velvety walls with terrifying ease and she's reduced to the state closer to spineless, boneless goo than an actual human being. _Good thing his hold is so firm_. One precise thrust harmonized with a small nibble under her jaw and the strongest orgasm covers her like a tidal wave.

"My god... I love you so much."

"Shh, I know, angel, I know." Michael nuzzles her hair, his lips brush against her temple. "Now let me show you how much I love you."

If someone was hoping for a softer reunion this someone was now pushed face forward into the marble wall. His hard, massive length penetrated her effortlessly but it still hurt. Her body forgot how majestic he was and certainly needed a more thorough preparation. In a perfect world that could be a possibility, however here and now it was all about pleasure teetering on the edge of pain. A beauty being devoured by a beast. Bliss blended with anguish; light and darkness pouring together. The divine essence running through their veins. If Michael didn't order the grays to stay away from his office during the "interview" someone would definitely think he's torturing her. _Which is not far from the truth._

"Ahh! I-I can't hold it anymore. Please, Michael, please"

"Then cum for me..."

And she does and he follows, and the thick, sticky liquid is slowly running down her legs. His head falls to her shoulder, one hand still closed around her throat, another around her waist. Serenity fills the space, ragged breaths are shared between the two lovers. Fire burns in the fireplace as Earth's burned ages ago. Blood was spilled and flesh was torn. Love was born again under the arid ground.

"Will you marry me?"

"I will..."

**Author's Note:**

> thanx for your time, I hope it was worth it :))))🌹🌹🌹


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